


A Light in the Dark

by SophiaHawkins



Category: Chicago PD, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: AU, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29627289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaHawkins/pseuds/SophiaHawkins
Summary: Set after "Start Digging" and "The Silos". Olivia Benson comes to Chicago to see Hank Voight after Justin's murder.
Kudos: 2





	A Light in the Dark

A Light in the Dark

Olivia Benson pulled up to the curb and put her rented car in 'park' and got out. It was already pitch dark out, she had hoped to get here earlier but her flight was delayed. The house was dark, quiet, something she learned not to take as a good sign. She ran up to the door and found it locked, and she knocked.

"Hank," she called, "It's me." She banged on the door again, "Hank, I know you're in there, open up." Nothing.

"Hank!" Olivia said to the door again, "If you don't open this door, I'm coming in. I've got Erin's key."

Fair warning for a man who'd answer any suspicious knock with a shotgun under regular circumstances, she wasn't even sure what was going to happen once she entered the house, but nothing was going to hold her back. She took the key from her pocket, turned the bolt in the lock and slowly pushed it open.

"Voight, I'm coming in," she announced as she looked on into the pitch blackness of the house's inside.

She hadn't been to Voight's house often enough to know where anything was, she held her arms in front of her cautiously to feel around and make her way from room to room.

"Hank?" she called out as she found the threshold to the dining room, "Are you here?"

Silence. She felt for the wall and tried to find the light switch. It took a few tries but she finally felt the switch cover on the wall. She flicked the switch but nothing happened, so she flicked it back the other way, still nothing.

"Hank?"

She would swear she could sense the sergeant's presence, but she still couldn't hear anything. Then finally, from somewhere else in the house, the kitchen she realized, a voice suddenly answered, albeit somewhat muffled, "Come on in, Olivia."

"Hank," Olivia called as she felt her way around the table and chairs, "Where are you?"

There was no response. After a few seconds he said to her, "You're wondering why it's so dark in here."

"Yes," Olivia said as she followed the sound of his voice. As she passed through the dining room, she stepped on something and felt small pieces of something crunch under her shoes.

"The lights had an unfortunate accident," he told her, trying to sound dismissive about it.

She looked around the darkened kitchen, trying to pinpoint his location. "Where are you?"

For an answer, the refrigerator door opened, the only light in the house he hadn't felt a need to dismantle, and she saw him standing by the side of it. Before the door closed she walked over towards the sergeant and threw her arms around him.

"I should've come out here sooner," she said, "I'm so sorry about Justin."

Voight merely grunted something in response before telling her, "I wouldn't have wanted you out here anyway."

Olivia breathed in the strong scent of whiskey, she could guess _why_ he hadn't wanted her to come.

"I went to the 21, Erin told me you'd left early and nobody had been able to get a hold of you," she said.

Hank just grunted a small 'mm-hmm', before pulling away from her.

"Hank…"

She could feel him moving further away from her.

"I'm sorry you made the trip for nothing, Olivia," he said, "But the truth is I don't really want you here now either."

She heard the sound of glass clink and years of living with her mother told her he was helping himself to another drink. She wondered if he'd smashed the lights before or after he started drinking.

"Hank," she said as she took a step closer towards him in the dark.

But Voight was adamant, she could sense him shaking his head as he told her, "Just leave, Olivia."

But she stood her ground, and responded firmly, "No."

"What?" Voight sounded surprised.

"If you want me to leave," she told him, "You're going to have to throw me out."

There was a slight pause before he responded, "Don't think I won't."

"Don't talk to me like I'm one of your perps, Voight," Olivia told him, "Or even like I'm one of your own men. _I'm_ not afraid of you."

Almost without missing a beat, Voight replied, "You should be."

"No," Olivia shook her head as she moved towards him, "I know after 17 years in SVU who I should be afraid of…it's not you, Hank." Though she couldn't see him, she instinctively knew she was facing him now, "That's not who you are."

He sniped at her, "You don't know who I am."

"That's not true," she returned, "That concerned father when we were undercover to find Erin's brother, Teddy, that wasn't an act, Hank, that's the man you are, not this hardass exterior you always show the world."

Voight's only response was an unconvinced grunt.

"Camille wouldn't have married you if that were true," Olivia told him.

There was a silence that hung in the air, the tension was as thick as smog.

The seconds felt like an eternity, before finally Voight remarked with, "That was a long time ago, things were different."

"No," Olivia said in a half whisper as she took another step towards him, "Maybe the way you reacted to situations changed over the years, but you're still the same man now you were then, Hank."

She couldn't see him, but she could feel him turning his head to look at her and he told her, "Don't talk to me like _I'm_ the perp. I know how that works."

"That's what you think I'm doing?" Olivia asked.

"I know it," Voight said, "Keep 'em talking, make them think you understand them, you're on their side, _then_ ambush them."

"Really?" Olivia opened her jacket, even though she couldn't see him, somehow she wasn't entirely convinced he couldn't see her in the dark, "You want to search me? I came without a gun."

"That was damn stupid," Voight told her.

"I told you," she said, "I'm not afraid of you."

"I don't want you here," he said to her.

"Then throw me out," Olivia challenged him.

She stood her ground and waited, but nothing happened, just as she knew it wouldn't.

"I'm not leaving, Hank," she said, calmly.

Silence again. Olivia thought she'd be able to stand the silence if she could just _see_ Voight.

She heard a quick scraping sound, followed by a sizzle and hiss, and a small flame eliminated the darkness between them as Voight held a match in his hand.

"If you're going to stay," Voight said to her, "You might as well have a drink."

* * *

"I suppose Erin told you everything," he said when they finally left the kitchen and relocated to the living room. By some luck, there was one light in the room that Voight hadn't smashed in a rage, he turned it on and Olivia was able to really see the Chicago cop for the first time since she'd last visited. To say he looked horrible was an understatement, he looked two steps away from being a zombie. He was still functioning, but barely, no wonder he hadn't stuck around at the station house.

"I don't know," Olivia said as she walked over towards him, "I don't know what all there is to the story."

"Olive left," Voight told her, "She took my grandson, the _only_ blood relative I have left in this world, the _only_ part of Justin I have left, and moved to Arizona."

Olivia looked like somebody had just punched her in the stomach, "Oh, Hank."

"She said she couldn't stay here anymore," he continued, and looked about the room, "Too many memories."

"Hank, I am so sorry," she said.

"Justin had a twin," Voight said as he sat down on the couch, "The girl didn't make it. Then Camille got cancer, then Camille died, now Justin was murdered, and now I've lost my grandson. Erin's all I've got left now."

"Hank," Olivia said quietly as she sat down beside him on the couch.

Voight almost looked to be in shock, or a daze, his eyes didn't really focus on anything as he said, "In a way I should be relieved, I don't have anymore family to be at risk from the criminals I go after."

"Voight, don't talk like that," Olivia told him.

"It's true," he said, not sounding quite all there, "All the times that Justin's life was in danger because of my work, his being a Voight," he shook his head, "Now I don't have to wonder, now I _know_."

"Hank…"

He looked at her, and what she saw shocked her. In all the times she'd joined forces with Voight in catching killers hopping from one jurisdiction to another, Voight was always a brick wall, nothing could ever really get to him, and if it did he compensated by beating the hell out of perps in the most disgustingly creative ways possible. Now, she saw his eyes glazed over with tears that hadn't fallen yet, but would and soon.

"He was my son, Olivia," his voice was starting to break now as well, "He was my little boy…"

And the brick wall crumbled.

Olivia saw one tear work its way loose from the rest and fall, not trickle, but drop straight down his face, a second before he doubled over as a series of body wracking sobs took him over. Olivia leaned forward and cautiously put one hand on his shoulder, then wrapped her arm around his back and pulled him towards her.

"Hank," she got out in a quiet voice, almost a whisper.

Voight didn't fight the solace offered but he didn't ease into it either, Olivia had to lift Voight's head up from his chest and rest it on her shoulder as she tightened her embrace on him. She was mildly surprised when she felt him grab hold of her in return.

"All he did was try to help someone, and they killed him," Voight managed to get out before another series of sobs choked him.

Olivia bit her lower lip and looked up towards the ceiling as she continued to hold him in her arms and wait out the emotional storm. There were no words she could say. Justin was dead, life as Voight knew it was never going to be the same, there was no way she could fix this, all she could do was be there for him now when he needed someone the most, even if he couldn't admit it.

Voight sucked in a breath long enough to get out a heart wrenching, "My baby boy's gone."

Olivia closed her eyes and felt her heart shatter.

* * *

Olivia opened her eyes, everything was dark. She was not aware in the moment of anything except that she was laying down, and she was crying. She felt no actual emotional connection to the tears that were still streaming down her face, but they continued to fall at full force. Raising a hand, Olivia used her thumb to wipe away the most recent ones.

She shouldn't have drunk so much. Especially given her own background she should've known better, but Voight had already been drinking for who knew how long, she couldn't see any point in only one of them being sober, so she'd helped him kill another bottle of whiskey. She hadn't drunk enough to actually get drunk, but she drank enough that she felt lousy, and she would in the morning too, and she knew it.

There was a weight on her chest. Not a figurative weight stemming from the emotional turmoil of what was going on, an actual and literal weight pressing on her chest. She moved her hand to feel what it was and it surprised her but not by much. It was Voight's head. She became aware of his weight pressing on the rest of her body, the sergeant was either asleep or had finally passed out, and was using her as a pillow. At least he'd calmed down for the time being, but Olivia wondered how long that would actually last. She reached her hand to the back of Voight's head and lightly stroked it while he slept.

Even in sleep there was no escape from the memories, Voight breathed noisily as he moved in his sleep, and a small half sob escaped from his throat.

Olivia realized something else and wasn't sure what to make of it. They weren't still on the couch in the living room, they were in Voight's bed in his room up on the second floor. How had they even gotten upstairs? She couldn't remember. She didn't remember anything after the two of them on the couch. Something else occurred to her, and even as she thought it she realized she should've known better, but she felt along the parts of her body that Voight wasn't crushing in his sleep, and was relieved to feel the clothes that she'd had on earlier.

It wouldn't have been the first time that grief brought two people together and drove them to bed. In fact, as a cop and having her fair share of traumatic experiences and losses, Olivia knew personally that it wasn't a rare occurrence at all. Sometimes you were so desperate to escape the pain and the neverending memories that you picked up any stranger in a bar simply so you wouldn't be alone for the night. It never helped, but that never stopped anybody from doing it either.

Voight wasn't a large man by any means, but he was still too heavy for Olivia to get up without trying to push him off of her. She used her foot to nudge the covers down at the other end of the bed and snag the top sheet and bedspread. Then she wriggled one arm down as far as she could reach around Voight and pulled the covers up on both of them. Voight made a few small grumbling sounds in his sleep, then he turned on his side and sharply elbowed Olivia in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her for a second.

And then sometimes, Olivia remembered, it paid to sleep alone, there was a lot less bruising that way.

Hank murmured something in his sleep that Olivia couldn't understand, but she could guess because the next thing she could hear was that Voight was crying in his sleep. She wrapped one hand behind his head and calmly stroked it, holding her breath and keeping her thoughts to herself for a moment. Quietly, knowing that he couldn't hear her, she looked up in the darkness towards the ceiling and said calmly, "I love you, Hank."

* * *

The next thing Olivia knew, it was morning. The room was still fairly dark though she could see light starting to creep in through the blinds. Her head was in a fog and it took her a moment to remember where she was and what was happening. Voight had finally rolled over to the other side of the bed sometime during the night, but even now he wasn't sleeping peacefully. He twitched in his sleep and flipped and flopped one way and the other, grumbling incoherently the whole time. Olivia reached over and shook his shoulder to try and wake him up.

"Hank," she said as she tried to get his attention, and when it didn't work she tried harder, "Hank!"

Something finally clicked, Voight shot up in the bed with a start and a yell, Olivia inched back in surprise, then the next thing she knew she was pinned down to the mattress, once again Voight was on top of her, this time though, he kissed her. Everything happened so fast that it took Olivia a minute to even process what was happening, even when she did she was still in shock. She didn't push back or try to struggle, but she didn't lean into it or reciprocate either. She froze under his weight as she felt his whole body press against her. Except it slowly dawned on her that there was one part that wasn't, when she figured that out she felt her eyes widen in realization.

And then, as suddenly and randomly as it happened, Voight stopped and pulled back and looked down at her, as if he was just realizing what he'd done.

"I'm sorry," he said as he moved off of her. That was all he said, it was obvious he didn't have any idea where to go from there.

Olivia sat up and looked at him and responded, "It's alright."

Voight scooted back on his heels and said again, "I'm sorry, Olivia."

"It's alright, Hank," Olivia tried to assure him.

He looked at her and said only, "I think you better leave."

Maybe she should've seen it coming, but she didn't. "What?"

Voight got up from the bed and told her, "I'm sorry you made the trip out here for nothing, but I don't want you around. Leave…don't make me throw you out."

Olivia wasn't sure how to respond to that. After the initial shock wore off, and she could see that Voight wasn't going to change his mind, she slowly nodded and got up from the bed.

"Okay," she said calmly, as she often did when dealing with perps or families of victims, "Okay, I will."

Olivia tried one final time to go to Hank and touch him, but even with his back to her he anticipated it and moved away before she could get a hand on him.

"Goodbye, Hank," she said sorrowfully, in defeat.

Hank wouldn't turn around to face her, so she left the bedroom. Hank heard the echo of her footsteps going down the stairs, then heard the front door open and close, and then there was silence, and he was alone again, just the way he wanted it.

* * *

Half an hour after Olivia had gone, Voight's phone rang. It was Antonio, and the news was bad. He'd been in the area when a call came in about a car chase following a shooting. Olivia had been involved in the chase, and the crash that followed, her car was totaled and she was being transported to Chicago Med. Hank reached the scene of the accident in record time, a wonder he didn't become a casualty himself. When he arrived on the scene it was pandemonium, there was a semi with a smashed up front, pulverized remains of another car a few yards away from where it skidded to a stop, and several cars with varying amounts of damage to them scattered all over the road. Two ambulances were loading up, another one was treating people out of the back.

"What the hell happened?" he asked Antonio. He looked around at all the chaos, and he realized they were too far away from the airport for this to make any sense. Olivia should've already been waiting to board her flight by now.

Antonio walked him through it the best he could, "From what I understand, she was on her way to the airport when she witnessed a drive-by shooting. She called it in, and followed the car so we'd be able to catch them. During the chase the gunman started shooting at her, so she hit the gas and rammed them. They couldn't get away so they tried turning the car around to run her off the road, and when they did that, they got hit by a truck coming through that couldn't stop in time. The driver of the truck started to swerve out of the way, which is why most of the car's still in one piece. Olivia swerved to get out of the way of the wreck, knocked into a couple other cars in the process, lost control of the car, it rolled over and finally stopped when it hit a gate. Paramedics got her out and already took her to Chicago Med."

"What's her condition?" Hank asked.

Antonio shrugged, "I don't know."

"Is she going to make it?" Hank asked.

Antonio shrugged again. "The drive-by victim was also rushed to Med. Not looking good. A 19 year old kid, no known gang affiliation, could just be wrong place, wrong time, hell of a reason to get killed."

"There's never a good reason," Hank replied, then inquired, "What about the other people involved in the wreck?"

"So far looks like minor injuries, except for the shooter and the driver."

Voight grumbled as he looked back at the wreck, "Dead on impact?"

"Not yet," Antonio replied, "They'll be next to Med."

Voight got back in his car and went to Chicago Med, by the time he got there to inquire about Olivia, he was able to get almost a full report from Maggie; she'd been severely banged up in the crash, was currently unconscious, under observation, and had already been assigned a room, not one in ICU, for which he was thankful.

Hospitals, he hated these things with a passion, all bad things came out of hospitals. Camille had died in one, the plug had been pulled on Justin in one. More people came to hospitals to die than to live it seemed. He just prayed that that wouldn't be the case with Olivia as well.

There wasn't anyone else in the room, just Olivia in the hospital bed, her clothes replaced with a paper gown, hooked up to…he couldn't even focus on what all they had her hooked up to to monitor everything. At the moment all he could focus on was her face. Half of it was blue and black from the car accident; she had a few cuts below her hairline, one set of stitches over her left eye. As bad as it looked, it looked lucky that she didn't go flying through the windshield when the car rolled.

"Were you this desperate to get me to leave the house?" he asked her in a moment of dark humor.

No response from the woman laying in the bed, only the continuous beeps from the various machines. Voight reached for her hand that didn't have an IV needle in it, all her fingernails were broken off and jagged in places, her hand was wrapped up in layers of gauze like they were trying to keep her from bleeding out.

"Why did you do it, Olivia?" he asked her, knowing she wouldn't answer. Her previous words came back to haunt him, "You came out here unarmed, why the hell did you chase them? What did you think you were going to do if you caught them?"

You could take the cop out of their jurisdiction, but…didn't matter where you were, a cop is a cop is a cop, and a cop who witnesses a crime will never stand by and just let the local patrol get it. Not if they actually deserved to wear that shield. He couldn't, that's what had started the tension between them when he went to New York and first met Olivia. Her house, her rules, his house, his rules, it was a dance they perfected early on in their working relationship.

Voight grabbed the blanket that was covering Olivia and pulled it down to the foot of the bed. Her legs were covered in red and purple bruises from her knees down to her ankles, her thighs sticking out from the gown were the only things that appeared unscathed. He brought the blanket back up and tucked it around her carefully.

Hank lightly squeezed Olivia's hand and told her, "I know you came out here to try and help me. I appreciate it." He paused and grew even more somber as he added, "I shouldn't have told you to leave. I'm sorry."

Nothing. Just the steady continual beeps from the monitors.

* * *

"Hank?"

Voight opened his eyes and realized he'd fallen asleep. His neck was stiff from being craned to the side for he didn't know how long. It was to much disappointment he realized the woman calling him wasn't Olivia in the bed next to him, but Sharon, standing in the doorway. He turned his head and looked at Olivia who still lay unconscious in the bed, she hadn't moved at all.

"I heard you'd graced this hospital with your presence," Sharon said as she stepped into the room, "Almost thought they'd said the wrong room. This doesn't look like the perps you beat up on."

"What's the report, Sharon?" Hank decided to cut to the chase, he knew there was a reason why she'd come.

"Friend of yours?" she asked, "On one hand, it seems she got lucky. Multiple contusions but nothing broken, had to have a few stitches but other than that…"

"Don't sugarcoat it, Sharon, what's the other hand?" Voight wanted to know.

She looked at him and bluntly answered, "She hasn't regained consciousness since the accident, so far she's not responding to stimuli of any sort. We're going to keep an eye on her for any possible brain swelling or seizures or stroke…"

" _Is_ she going to come out of it?" Voight demanded to know.

"I don't know, Hank," she answered simply after a brief pause, "You know we'll do everything we can for her."

"Do it," he said, as if it were that simple.

"We'll let you know when there's any update," Sharon told him.

Voight's eyes met hers and he stated simply and matter-of-factly, "I'm staying."

It shouldn't have been surprising. Only missing a beat, Sharon responded, "Alright. The doctor will be in in a minute to check on her."

"What happened to the drive-by victim that was brought in?" Voight asked.

Sharon shook her head and said softly, "There wasn't anything they could do."

"Uh huh," Voight didn't sound too convinced, but moved onto another subject, "And the other two?"

"They were brought in," she said.

"Going to make it?" Voight asked.

"I know a lot of people are walking away these days from being hit by a semi," Sharon told him, "But these two could go either way. Either they'll answer to you when they get released, or God can handle them soon enough."

"Mm-hmm," Voight grumbled dismissively.

Sharon looked at him looking at Olivia, she could tell he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "Can I get you something?"

Voight ever so slightly shook his head, his eyes never took focus off of Olivia. Sharon wordlessly nodded and left the room.

Hank took Olivia's hand in his own and covered hers with his other and he said quietly to her, "The doctor's going to come in here and see how you're doing…I'm going to step out for a minute, but I'll be right back. Okay?" By now he was getting used to no answer. "Okay."


End file.
